When The Cicadas Cry
by EnvyIsMySin
Summary: Pray that it is not just one the next time, or else this tragic story will never end. Until then, we just have to wait until when the cicadas cry once more. Rating may change. AU.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hey~! This is a new story idea, and one I'm honestly excited about. It's mystery/horror, and I've absolutely fallen in love with mystery stories in the past month or so. So, here goes nothing! Please let me know what you think!**

**This is going on both fanfiction and fictionpress(my penname is the same on both), since I'm not sure if my characters will all be original, or based on something that already exists. So, yeah. It's under Scooby Doo here because, despite it being more of a little kid's show, it's the only real mystery thing I know of. xD**

**Also, go easy on me. I'm only thirteen, so my writing isn't perfect. Constructive criticism is both welcomed and encouraged, though.**

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><p><strong><span>When The Cicadas Cry - Prologue<span>**

It was a silent, serene summer night. Not a sound was heard other than the faded cries of the cicadas and the rustling of leaves, pushed by an invisible wind that whispered through the branches of their home. A slight chill could be felt, along with the summery tang filled with the scent of beaches and flowers. A pale moon shone overhead, its meek light empowered in occasional short bursts with the help of the street lamps placed evenly along the paved roads that casted dark shadows in only the deepest corners of the town; keeping the rest of the hungry, twisting darkness at bay for the passerby.

Well, that was what it was on the surface. At least, until the screams began.

They all came from one lone figure. A raven-haired woman, easily in her early twenties. Her bare feet pounded on the sidewalk, the loose material of her white nightgown swishing with the movement. Spastic gasps of breath were emitted as she ran, glancing backwards with bright blue, fear-crazed eyes. Eyes that had filled with smiles, laughter, tears, and silently watched for a whole lifetime. But the sparkle was gone, replaced with a dark, cloudy shadow, turning the bright blue to a dull, cloudy gray-blue.

To the onlooker, though, nothing was behind her.

"No!" the first shrill cry pierced the air, sending the cicadas in the trees above her into a frenzy of broken screeches. The pounding of flesh on cement grew louder and louder. Her footsteps were uneven, her pace quickening. "No! Stop it! Go away!" the hoarse yells were ripped from her throat one by one, as she ran faster then she had before in her life, long hair flying out behind her like a dark shadow. This went on for quite some time, and she had not once faltered.

And then... she made the move that sealed her fate.

She stumbled.

Stumbled, stopped, bracing herself as she fell to the ground. Rough scrapes instantly appeared on the soft, unbroken skin of her palms and knees, blood welling underneath. It would surely bruise.

That was obviously the least of her concerns right now, even as her teeth gritted together from the painful landing. Her hair fell in front of her face, exposing the back of her smooth, pale neck but hiding her expression. She flipped herself over into a sitting position, pushing against the nearby wall, her breath growing more and more panicked even as it should be evening out "No! No, _nonononono_..." she covered her ears with clammy, skeletal hands, squeezing her eyes shut as she curled into a shivering ball. Her movements were stiff, controlled - rocking back and forth, back and forth. She didn't dare look up, for fear of what was there; whatever haunted her fearful mind, something only she could see.

"It's coming..." she let out a shaky, crazed laugh. Her grip tangled into her long, dark hair, straining at the roots. "It's coming... who will be next? Who.. will.."

A grotesque tearing sound pierced the air, along with one last, ear-piercing scream.

Red stained the pale sidewalk, seeming to seep through the cracks of the sleeping little town. The little, oblivious town, carrying on with life even as the fate of of their own were settled, one after the other.

The scream quickly dissipated, whisked away into nothingness by the wind. The cries of the frenzied cicadas finally settled down, serenity creeping back on the town like a dark shadow, as if nothing had gone awry that fateful night.

The nameless, raven-haired woman with the once bright blue eyes was dead.

Who was next; who would solve the mystery she left behind?

Or will the deceased remain unavenged, their deaths a mystery until even after their bones wear and crumble?

When will the cicadas cry again; the shrill noises growing louder with each death, crying out to help the unfortunate victim, until they too are silenced?

Just pray that it's not just one the next time, or else this tragic story will never end.

Until then, we just have to wait until when the cicadas cry once more.

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><p>The next morning, many of the townspeople awoke to the sound of sirens.<p>

The shrill noise pierced the air, pulling even the hardiest sleepers from their dreamland. Pointless noise from radios and hastily shouted orders only added to the fragments of chaos. And why was a little, stately town such as this thrown into such hectic disorder, you may ask?

Well, the answer was a simple one. They had found the latest victim of the town's hauntings - not that they knew that yet, of course.

It was a grotesque scene. A woman had laid dead on the pavement, face-down in a pool of her own blood. That same blood covered her long, bare neck - the muscles inside ripped apart, her head tilted at an odd angle. Her spine was most likely shattered.

A small, clean hole ran straight through both her hands and her skull, as if pierced through by a metal rod. Hardened blood clung to her dark hair and long nails. The police had deducted that it was a wound from something like a gun or an arrow - but how one shot could cleanly pierce both the hands and skull, with no clues left behind was unknown.

If that wasn't bad enough, at least half her face was smashed inward. Only a tear-filled blue eye remained.

Yet, other than the head wounds, no visible wounds were seen on the rest of her body. Well, except for small scrapes on her hands and knees, which only made the situation more confusing. Had she put up a fight before her death... and, if so, exactly what was she running from?

The death was instantly labeled as a homicide, most likely first degree murder; what else could it have been? It was physically impossible that it was anything other than homicide, and this brutal murder did _not_ look unplanned.

One of the first at the scene had been Inspector Jones - a middle-aged, slightly balding blond man, part of the town's small police force. He had been out training a rookie, and the poor boy had stumbled across the corpse - and within his first week of training. He had puked and ran off, of course, leaving the older cop to deal with the mess.

The blond man sighed. He had quickly called for backup - not that there was any immediate danger; the woman was long dead, no one else in sight. Her body had been arranged to be wheeled away as soon as possible, an immediate autopsy scheduled, but at that moment the bloodstained body still sat as proof of her untimely, gruesome death. In between the blaring sirens, obnoxious orders and the seemingly impossible death, the Inspector was beginning to get a headache.

By now, you're probably still wondering who the woman even was. The problem was that no one even knew.

At this point, many of the town's residents had begun to notice that something was amiss. Still clothed in their nightclothes, citizens had began to gather around the edge of the scene, muttered words exchanged between themselves.

"Oh my god!"

"Is she really dead?"

"She looks like she was... murdered... who would do such a thing?"

And here is where we meet our protagonists; a group of four (not so) normal teenagers.

The first, a tall boy with dirty blond hair, seemed to be the backbone of the group. Unlike most people, he was fully clothed in a short-sleeved, white polo shirt and slightly faded jeans, white Nikes sticking out from under the blue. The only thing that was missing was his signature ascot. He stared unblinkingly at the scene before him, blue eyes reflecting his disgust.

The second, a somewhat fragile-looking redhead refused to look at the grotesque scene before her, her face buried in the blond's shoulder. Unlike him, she was still wearing a short purple nightgown, having only woken up a few moments prior to then. Because of that, her hastily brushed fiery hair was in slight disarray, the ends falling in messy waves.

Next to the first two was an even smaller girl. Her hair was a wispy brown that fell just past her chin, hovering just above her shoulders. Large, black-rimmed glasses framed her eyes, making them seem almost bug-like. She, like the first girl, was still clothed in orange pajamas. She wore an expressionless, if not somewhat calculating mask, but even she was obviously shaken by the scene before her.

The last of the four was another boy, almost as tall as the first one. His hair was a mousy color that fell in messy layers around his face. His eyes, oin the other hand, dark brown, almost black color and somewhat bloodshot. He, too, was fully dressed in a green shirt and brown jeans, albeit for a different reason - a reason that explained his tired expression.

You see, absent from this group was a rather significant member.

This member was, well a dog. A Great Dane.

A large, brown, _talking _Great Dane - Scooby Doo.

He had been missing since last night. If that wasn't bad enough- since Scooby, despite his massive size, was a huge chicken- there had been a murder the exact same night. Shaggy, the second boy, hadn't stopped worrying since he had woken up. He couldn't tell the rest of them now though, not until after this.

As the four- well, three, the redhead still refused to look at the bloodied body- watched, the woman was covered and wheeled away. The crowds dispersed as the scene was emptied, quickly and efficiently barricaded off from the public.

The shadows reached out hungrily as the lazy sun rose in the sky. The steady sound of the cicadas still rang through the town mockingly, emulating serenity.

From the darkened alleyways, a pair of glowing eyes gleamed with mirth.

_Come, you're just in time for the show. Let the never-ending games begin!_

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><p><strong>Fail writing. Yaay.(: Seriously though, this got more and more awkward as I wrote it.<strong>

**Probably because school started again, and I fail at focusing when I'm going to bed at midnight or one and waking up at like, seven. Oh, and I actually find inspiration to write late at night - I seriously can't before that. Oh well. Thank god for cliffhangers in even the suckiest of places, though.**

**And about Scooby~? All I can say is that he's gone for a reason.**

**I asked my friend Rachel for help with the random dialogue, here's the things she thought of;**

**The first idea:**

**ERP1: What the hell...?**

**ERP2: What could've made holes that deep?**

**ERP1: We're all in danger!**

**ERP2: FUCKYEAH ^**

**Chuck Norris: 8D**

**Chuck Norris: IT WAS ELMO**

**Try 2:**

**"Ohk so one person could be like**

**...**

**...**

**I'm brain dead. |D"**

**Gee. Thanks for your help, Rach. 8D**

**.. No, really.**


	2. Chapter One: Ordo ab Chao

**A/N: Alright, so I was hoping to make this longer, but I also really wanted to update this today. it's been, what, two and a half months? Yeah. So this isn't my best, but whatever. Better than nothing right?**

**It's finally summer again~. Of course that means there will be many days where I have no time for , but it also means there will be lazy days that I can devote you guys. Like today.**

**Also: for those of you who don't know, ordo ab chao is latin for "order to chaos." It's probably pretty obvious, but just in case.**

**Anyways~ here we go!**

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><p><strong>When The Cicadas Cry - Chapter 1: From Order to Chaos<strong>

A tall girl with flowing, bright orange hair spilling over her rounded shoulders sat on a large bed. Her long, pale legs were bent upwards, her hands resting across her knees. She leaned her head back against the oh-so-cold and oh-so-white wall, gazing up with oh-so-bright, vivid green eyes at the oh-so-plain ceiling of the room.

A normal room, in a normal- albeit rather large, and rather empty, at the moment, too- house... in a not-so-normal town.

Well, not anymore. Not after _that, _which had thrown the little, ordinary suburban town (not to mention her mind, but that was a whole other matter of discussion) from order into chaos.

_Order to chaos._ How often has she heard that little saying before? Never, though, did she completely and fully comprehend the true force behind those three words. Until now, that is.

_That_ was what it was, and _that_ was what it would stay as. Unlike her three other friends, who dived into the new, intriguing mystery with the eagerness of a pack of vultures scattering around their long-dead prey (with its heart stopped short and oh-so-red blood tainting the once pristine ground and its eyes still wide open in paralyzed fear that would stay there forever), she did not want to even think of it. It was too... too much for her to handle.

No one had ever died before. Come close to the cusp; the very, _very_ thin line that barely separated the two, yet was worlds apart, maybe. But never actually _died._

_Never murdered._

_Stone cold on the unforgiving ground._

_Murder. Murder. Murder. Murder._

_Murderer._

_Who was the murderer?_

Her fingers clenched into a tight fist and curled around the sheet next to her, knuckles whitening in response to the sudden strain. She closed her eyes slightly, her heavy-lidded vision blurring with barely restrained tiredness, reflexive tears flooding her dry eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly, creating the tiniest of wrinkles around her wide eyes and along the bridge of her nose.

She couldn't sleep.

_Couldn't, wouldn't, shouldn't._

It didn't matter which word you used, they all described how she felt right now with a deadly accuracy that was almost frightening.

Something bothered the girl. She knew it was extremely farfetched, but as she shifted her cramped position on the corner of the large bed, tangling the pristine, oh-so-white sheets in the process, she felt it again. If she fell asleep, something would happen.

Something big, possibly even life-changing.

She almost laughed at her own cliche thoughts. She would have, too, if not for the dark reason behind them.

Whether this something, this urge, this lure to shut her eyes was good or bad, she couldn't _(couldn't, wouldn't shouldn't, couldn't wouldn't, shouldn't; the three word mantra remained embedded in her skull)_ tell. All she knew is that she would soon fall asleep, and would just have to hope for the best. If she knew her hometown would be like this... even if it _was _known for it's criminals and legends...

Her eyes drooped slightly, resigned to their fate.

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><p>The day after the murder was a rather silent one. Many- scratch that, practically every human within the boundaries of the little town that had been pulled into chaos- stayed inside their own homes. whether out of fear or for some other reason, no one could really tell.<p>

Besides the whispering of the gentle winds, the only movement along the barren streets was a small, lanky alley cat. Its long, greasy black fur which most likely once held a glorious sheen was matted against its skin, giving it a slicked and underfed appearance. Its haughty yellow eyes swept over the deserted town as its long, bony tail slowly swept back and forth in a languid motion that seemed to almost be hypnotizing.

A ripple passed through its fur, the wind whistling through the inky black strands. The cat unblinkingly endured the sudden change, darting off down a dark alleyway.

The creature swiftly padded through the damp, narrow tunnel of intransigent concrete, tail held aloft and ears pricked for warning of intruders. As it neared the end of the alley, it nimbly jumped from one empty crate that littered the ground to another. It continued its upward climb until it balanced precariously on a stark white fence, the neatly trimmed grass on the other side open and inviting.

The silence was brutally torn by a tinkling of a chain, followed shortly by a ear-splitting, rough bark emitted from a dog in the yard below. The big, dark-furred creature pulled against its strong bonds, saliva flowing down its jowls as it strained to reach its eternal enemy- just one of many- that sat atop its owner's fence.

The cat, however, merely watched the poor creature with thinly veiled disdain, flicking its long tail irritably. A slight hiss echoed from between its sharp, pointed teeth, startling the rather large dog. It whimpered slightly, its short tail lowering as it backed away from the fence. However, its cold, glaring eyes did not once stray from the scrawny feline as it continued on its journey.

Eventually, the unkempt cat began to approach another animal, enshrouded in shadow. This animal was much larger than the feline and much more muscular in stature. It could not be called human though, by any means- the figure was very obviously standing on all fours, poised to start running if necessary.

"You're finally back, then? Any more news on the situation?"

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><p><strong>Yay for fail cliffhangers!<strong>

**Please R&R if you have the time, I'd like to know what I can improve on and what should stay consistent. Also, if the animal thing is too farfetched.**


	3. Author's Note

**Hey, uh. So. I know, it's been like forever and a day since I've even looked at this let alone consider continuing it.**

**But I just wanted to let anyone who might still remember this or care know that I'm gonna try to. (Keyword there is ****_try_****...) I might also go back and edit the previous chapters- it's been about a year, after all.**

**So, yeah. That's it for now. Bye I guess!**

**-Envy**


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